


Thanks for the Memories

by CR Noble (erudite12)



Series: Tumblr SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge [6]
Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: F/F, Gen, SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge, SPN hiatus, Tumblr, supernatural hiatus, tumblr challenges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 03:52:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7418743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erudite12/pseuds/CR%20Noble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie and crew wait for Ophelia to wake up while she finally sees all the memories that had been hidden behind the wall.</p>
<p>Word count:1565<br/>Warnings: flashbacks</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thanks for the Memories

**Author's Note:**

> This was my submission for week 6 to the SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge on Tumblr, run by @one-shots-supernatural. For the purposes of the fic, Michael's vessel is Adam Milligan, but is in no way related to the Winchesters. This series is finally starting to get really good! I hope you guys are enjoying it as much as I am!
> 
> Feedback is awesome!
> 
> Italics are memories, prompt is in bold.

Charlie sat in a chair pulled up next to Dean’s bed and watched over Ophelia. It had been hours and she hadn’t woken up. She was covered in a sheen of sweat and her breathing was labored as she occasionally thrashed in her fevered rest. Charlie didn’t know what to expect or how long this would go on, but she refused to leave Ophelia’s bedside.

“You have to wake up for me, O,” Charlie whispered, leaning over so her lips were close to Ophelia’s ear. Charlie could feel the heat rolling off of her body. “You still owe me a date.” She realized that she really wanted that date. Ophelia had quickly worked her way into Charlie’s heart. There was a flutter of wings and Castiel stood behind her.

“Is she going to be okay?” Charlie asked, looking over her shoulder at him. His blue eyes bored into Charlie as he silently contemplated her question.

“I don’t know, Charlie,” he responded finally. “She is remembering, and now we can only hope that the memories are not too much for her.”

* * *

 

_“Mama,” a young girl said. Ophelia watched as another memory she’d never seen played out before her. Her 7 year old self sat on the couch in the living room of her childhood home and pushed into her mother’s side, trying to get as close as possible. “This story is silly.” Ophelia’s breath caught in her chest as her mother laughed musically. She hadn’t realized how much she missed that sound._

_“It is not silly,” her mother said, running her fingers through little Ophelia’s hair. “It’s the Bible. It’s very important that you know these stories. Its part of your heritage, sweetheart.” Little Ophelia sighed and rolled her eyes as her mother continued reading to her about Moses talking to God in a burning bush. As she read, a tall man with dark dirty blonde hair walked into the room._

_“Daddy!” Little Ophelia cried out, jumping off of the couch and running over to him. Ophelia’s heart beat a little faster, this wasn’t her father. Not the father she remembered, anyway.  He bent down and scooped her up into his arms, laughing. “Did Moses really talk to a burning bush?”_

_“Well, **technically, it wasn’t on fire**_ **.** ” _He chuckled as he carried Little Ophelia over to the couch and sat with her in his lap._

_“Michael!” her mother chastised, but she was smiling at him as he leaned over and kissed her lightly._

_“What? It wasn’t burning, it was glowing. It was glowing so brightly that Moses thought it was on fire.” Mom rolled her eyes at him, smacking his shoulder. “Well, I should know, I was there.”_

* * *

 

Charlie jumped when a large hand came to rest on her shoulder. She could hardly keep her eyes open anymore. Ophelia’s hand burned in hers, but still she held it tightly. She wasn’t even sure how long she had been sitting in the chair, but with every passing moment, she was more afraid that Ophelia wouldn’t wake up. She looked up and her gaze was met by Dean’s bright green eyes. He smiled kindly at her.

“How long have we been waiting?” she asked him. Her voice was raspy and her throat was sore from a lack of sleep.

“You’ve been sitting here for about 10 hours, Charlie.” He paused and just looked her over. She knew she probably looked like hell. “Listen, why don’t you go grab some grub and catch a few hours of sleep.” Charlie shook her head.

“No, I don’t want to leave her.” Charlie looked down at Ophelia on the bed and squeezed her hand tighter. Dean sighed and bent one leg to kneel next to her, making her look at him with one gentle finger under her chin.

“You need to get some rest, Charlie. I’ll sit with her while you do.” Charlie’s eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, she was obviously exhausted. She sat there unmoving and stared into Dean’s eyes. He sighed again, and in the big brother voice he sometimes used on Sam, he said, “It’s not a request. Go get some damn sleep. If Ophelia woke up right now and saw you like this, she’d be pissed at you and you know it.” She finally relented, nodding and standing to walk out of the room. Dean took her place in the chair and waited.

* * *

 

_“Michael,” her mother’s voice whispered. Ophelia couldn’t see them, but judging by her mom’s tone, they were arguing about something. “You can’t do this!”_

_“I don’t have a choice!” Michael said. “They will kill her. To the Host, she is an abomination. I can’t allow that to happen.”_

_“Michael, we need you.” Her mother’s voice was cracking. She must have been crying. “I need you. Please, don’t leave me, Michael.”_

_“I love you,” Michael said. There was a pause, and although she couldn’t see it, she imagined they were kissing. “I love you and Ophelia more than I’ve ever loved anything. I don’t want to leave you, but this is the only way. You won’t remember any of this, and neither will she. I promise, neither of you will suffer because of me.”_

* * *

 

Dean sighed. It had been just over sixteen hours and Ophelia still hadn’t woken up. If she never woke up, he would blame himself. Sam had been right, he’d let his hatred of Michael cloud his judgment, and Ophelia was suffering because of it. Maybe she wouldn’t have gone through with this if he hadn’t been such a dick. She had stopped thrashing around in her sleep, but she was running a high fever, and she was soaked in sweat.

“I’m sorry, O,” Dean said quietly. He wasn’t sure she could even hear him, but he continued anyway. “I shouldn’t have judged you the way I did. None of this is your fault.” He rested a hand on her burning arm and squeezed it softly. “You gotta wake up.”

* * *

 

_“Daddy, read me a bedtime story,” Little Ophelia yawned. Ophelia watched as Michael smiled tenderly down at her. His eyes were glassy with tears. This was the last bedtime story he ever read to me, she thought, and he knew I wouldn’t even it remember it. He reached over to the nightstand beside Little Ophelia’s bed and grabbed ‘Good Night, Moon’. He laid next to her on the bed and wrapped her up in his arms as he read her the story. He must have had it memorized because his eyes never left Little Ophelia’s face. He read slowly, as though he were savoring these final moments with his daughter. When it was over, she smiled sleepily up at him and said, “I love you, Daddy.”_

_“I love you, too, angel,” he said with a careful kiss on her forehead. He stayed in bed and cuddled with her, stroking her hair until he knew she was asleep. “I love you so much. I will miss you with all of my heart.” Tears streamed down Michael’s face as he placed a hand on either side of his daughter’s head and slowly built the wall that would block out all of her grace and the powers that came with and every memory she had of him. He had already erased himself from the mind of Ophelia’s mother. Tears streamed down Ophelia’s cheeks. This was excruciating to watch. When it was done, he wiped the tears away and placed one more gentle kiss on Little Ophelia’s forehead. He walked out of her bedroom and out of her life forever._

* * *

 

Ophelia’s slumber was pushing twenty-four hours now, and everyone crowded into Dean’s bedroom, worry etched on their faces. Charlie sat in her chair again, holding one of Ophelia’s hands in her and whispering to her that everything was going to be fine and that she would wake up soon. Charlie’s comforting whispers were the only sound in the room, no one spoke. They waited in silence.

* * *

 

_“O, baby,” her mother said, her breathing labored. “Daddy is going to take me to the hospital, okay? You stay here and play with your Uncle Billy, and Mommy will be home soon with your baby brother.” She grimaced as she was hit with another contraction. Little Ophelia, who was eight now, smiled excitedly and nodded. She ran off to play with her uncle as a tall, dark-haired man came down the stairs with a duffel bag in one hand and car keys in the other. Ophelia remembered this memory. It was the day her brother was born. He planted a kiss on the top of her head and reminded her softly to be good while they were gone. Ophelia’s breath caught in her throat as she saw the man that she had always known as her dad gingerly take her mother by the arm and lead her out to the car._

* * *

 

It had been thirty hours since Castiel had brought down the barriers that Michael had painstakingly put in place. Ophelia’s fever had broken about three hours ago, but she still hadn’t woken up. Sam and Dean had long since retreated to the library, and only Charlie and Castiel remained.

Ophelia gasped, taking in a lungful of air as though she had been drowning. She sat up suddenly in the bed and as her eyes opened, they glowed bright white with grace.

 


End file.
